


The One With the Baking Contest

by haloburns



Series: so no one told you life was gonna be this way [2]
Category: Friends (TV), Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friends AU, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloburns/pseuds/haloburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John learns to do laundry. People think Hercules is straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Part Where Hercules is Straight

Laf sat on the couch in their apartment, folding laundry while John flipped through a magazine, the TV on in the background. It was peaceful and domestic. All was good until Laf found a pair of boxers mixed in with their delicates. They stopped, holding them up, slightly confused before turning to John.

“John, why are your boxers in with my laundry?” Laf tossed them on top of John’s magazine, causing him to look up.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” he said a little sheepishly.

“Can you… Do you not know how to do laundry, John?” Laf asked, placing the laundry next to them.

“No? I can fold laundry?” He offered but seemed unsure of his abilities. Laf sighed and looked to their friend.

“I can teach you to do laundry, this Saturday at the Launderama down the street, _d’accord_?” Reluctantly, John agreed and thanked Laf before the two settled back into their activities, content with the domesticity.

Peggy flew into the house about an hour later, heading straight for the vintage fridge in the kitchen.

“I’m so glad you have your own fridge, Margarita,” Laf said sarcastically from the couch.

“My fridge doesn’t have good food, Laf,” she said around a mouthful of chips she grabbed from the pantry. She plopped into a kitchen chair, content with the food in front of her.  
Laf rolled their eyes and turned to resume folding when Alex burst in in his usual flurry and slammed the door.

“Hello, hello, hello!” He said, hanging his coat up and moving to get a drink from the fridge. He sat on the arm of the chair John occupied, looking down as he inquired about his day.

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” Alex said, quickly taking a sip of his coffee to hide his nervousness.

“Um, actually Laf is taking me to Launderama to teach me laundry?” John said, looking at him apologetically.

“Oh, that’s okay–wait, do you not know how to do laundry?”

“I grew up a little spoiled, okay? No one taught me,” John pouted, causing Alex to laugh. He nudged John with his leg, John pushing back against Alex’s thigh with his shoulder. Alex’s smile was warm as John settled against him. Angelica swooped in, tossing her purse on the counter before settling on the couch next to Laf without a word. There was small talk and quiet chatter until Herc slammed into the apartment in a tizzy. He flung himself onto the couch, next to Laf, his face confused. Conversation stopped as everyone turned to look at him.

“What’s up, Herc?” Peggy asked, leaning towards her roommate. He started by telling them a story about a colleague of his trying to set him up with a girl who works in their office.

“Do you guys think I’m straight?” He finished.

“Well, yeah, I mean when I first met you I thought you were,” Angelica said, laughing a little at his offended look.

“You did?” His tone was disheartened and he slumped back.

“But you did spend all of Laf’s birthday staring at that cute guy from the bodega’s ass, so I thought, y’know, maybe not.”

“So wait, wait, did any of the rest of you guys think that when we first met?” There was a pause in the group as they shared a look. They collectively murmured that, in fact, they all thought that Hercules was straight.

“I didn’t, but in college Brian Spellman did,” Alex said, looking away, hiding a smile.

“You told him I wasn’t, right?”

“No,” Alex started, while Herc stared at him. “I kinda wanted to go out with him too, so I told him you were seeing Susan Salidor, who also liked him.”

“Fascinating. So what is it about me?” Herc implored to his friends. They mused out loud for a few minutes before Laf piped up.

“I don’t know,” John said, leaning over the back of the couch. “It’s ‘cause you’re smart, you’re funny…” He trailed off, obviously lost for qualities.

“Alex is smart and funny. Did you ever think he was?” Herc waved towards Alex. A slight pause ensued while everyone digested his words.

“Hercules, I married a woman. Of course they thought I was straight.” His tone literally was the epitome of “???”

“Yes, fucking all those boys in college made you straight, Alex,” Angelica said, not looking up from her book. Alex flipped her the bird but Hercules continued to have his freak out.

“What is it?!” he yelled, flinging his hands around.

“You’ve just got this… How you say… Quality.”

“That’s what it is! A quality!” Peggy said around her cup of coffee, pointing at Laf. Everyone agreed and settled back into what they were doing before Hercules came in with his straight panic.

“Thanks, guys. And here I thought you were going to be vague,” Herc told them as he flung himself against the back of the couch again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a fav scene of mine from season 1 and iwill be taking a few ideas here and there, like ross and rache's laundorama date, but a lot will be my own humor


	2. The Part Where Alex Makes (Bad) Puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is about laundry.

Saturday rolled around and John waited in his apartment for Alex, fidgeting in his “laundry” clothes. Alex tumbles into the apartment with his usual gusto, a goofy grin in place. 

“Ready to Snuggle?” Alex said, holding up a bottle of laundry detergent. John rolled his eyes and held back a giggle.

“Let’s go, Alex,” John said, holding the laundry basket up before heading out the door.

Together they walked down the street, small talk between them. The laundromat wasn’t exceptionally busy, but Alex and John weren’t  the only ones there.

“Alright, you stay here, I’m gonna go get some quarters,” Alex said, holding up a ten dollar bill before walking to the other side of the small, yellow room. John nodded and idled, fidgeting with the strings on his sweatpants while he waited. His and Alex’s baskets sat on top of two washers, holding them for their use once they got quarters.

“Move it, move it!” an older man pushed through the crowd, loudly, causing John to look up. “Comin’ through!” He takes John’s hamper off the washer and opens the lid, starting to set their clothes in it. 

John stared at him before speaking up. “Oh, excuse me, I was using that machine.” He pointed the basket the older man set aside.

“Yeah, well, now you're kinda not,” he said shortly, returning to putting their clothes in the machine.

“But I saved it. I put my basket on top,” John said in a petulant tone. 

“Oh, I'm sorry, is that your basket? It's really pretty,” he said condescendingly. “Unfortunately, I don't see suds.” 

“What?” John said blankly.  
  
“No suds, no save. Ok?” the old man’s tone was one that ended the conversation, John stuttering to a stop. The tone reminded him of his father. Alex walked back over, his hands full of quarters, a large grin on his face. John turned to look at him and immediately Alex’s face turned to concern. He set the quarters down on top of the washer with his basket.

“What's goin' on?” he asks quietly, leaning into John, placing a hand on his arm lightly.

“Hi, uh, nothing. That horrible man just took my machine,” John said, his voice wavering slightly. He took in a deep breath, knowing it was silly to cry over something as simple as a washer. “It’s okay, no big deal. I’ll--uh, I’ll just get another.” He waved his hand at Alex, turning around to grab the basket on the ground.  
  
“Was your basket on top?” Alex asked with determination in his quiet voice.   


“Yeah, but, there were no suds.” John shrugged, picking imaginary lint off his shirt, trying to tamp down on the tears building.  _ Stop crying, Jack. It’s just a fucking washer. _

“So?” Anger was building in Alex’s voice, but he stayed quiet. John looked around the vaguely empty building, motioning the other washers.

“I promise it’s fine. And, you know, no suds, no save.” He ended with a shrug. Alex had finally had it, looking vaguely offended.   
  


“No suds? Excuse me, hold on a second.” He walked around John to face the man, who was sorting out his laundry into the machine. “That's my friend's machine.” Alex pointed to the one with the man’s clothes in it, like it wasn’t obvious.

  
“Hey, hey, hey, his stuff wasn't in it,” he told Alex in a surly tone, turning to face him. For once, Alex was the taller man and he used that to his advantage to tower over the older man.

“Hey, hey,  _ hey _ , that's not the rule and you know it!” Alex’s voice had dropped a little, as to not draw much attention to the situation (which was unusual for Alex, but John assumed it was for his benefit, not Alex’s). The man glares at Alex for a minute before he removes his clothes from the washer and stalks off. Alex grins in triumph and turns to John, his grin shining through his tone. “Alright, let’s do laundry.”

John laughed and looked at him. “Amazing,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t even send back soup.” Alex smiled, his skin crinkling around his eyes in a way that made John’s heart stutter.  _ No one is allowed to be that cute, _ John thought, turning to throw clothes in the washer. Alex stared at John as if he’d grown a second head.

“John, uh, are you gonna separate those?” Alex waved his hands towards the mass of clothes sitting in the washer. Shoulders sagging, John turned to look at Alex, feeling like an idiot.

“Oh god. Am I being a total laundry spaz? Like, am I supposed to use one machine for shirts and another for pants?” At a total loss for words, Alex opened and closed his mouth, unable to formulate a response that isn’t entirely rude.

“John, have you honestly never done this before?” Alex seemed surprised at this and could honestly barely fathom it.

“Not myself, no, but I--um--know people that have.” There was a slight pause before John rolled his eyes. “Okay, you caught me. I’m a laundry virgin.” He threw in sarcastic jazzhands, trying to diffuse the tension. Alex coughed, his face turning red slightly.  
  
“Well, don’t worry,” he reassured John. “I’ll use the gentle cycle. Basically, you sort by colour, and you use one machine for each. Like, one for your whites, one for colours and, um, one for your underwear.” Alex had turned away to do his own laundry and together they waited for their laundry to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! it's been so long but i finally have motivation to write this again!! so here's to hopefully finishing the One with the Baking Contest 
> 
> kudos help, but comments are even better!!


	3. The Part Where Peggy Enters a Contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy gets a job and John wins.

“Okay, I know this is gonna sound really stupid, but I feel that if I can do this, you know, if I can actually do my own laundry, there isn't anything I can't do,” John said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two.

“That doesn’t sound stupid to me. You know, it's like the first time I had to make dinner for myself, after Eliza left me. I can cook, but--” The buzzer on the washer went off and interrupted Alex. “I'm sorry, that's all the time we have,”  he said in an show host voice, always rolling with the punches. 

“Next on Alex…” He trailed off as he opened up the washer lid. “Uh-oh.”

“What uh-oh?” John said, trying to peer over his shoulder. Alex quickly shut the lid, spinning to face John, an awkward smile on his face.

“Uh-oh, uh-oh, the laundry's done. It's, uh, it's a song. The laundry song that we sing.” Then Alex proceeded to make up a rhythm to sing: “Uh-oh the laundry's done, uh-oh, uh-oh.”

“Alex, what's the matter?” John asked, not taking any of his bullshit.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said hurriedly. Then he tried to continue with his ‘song.’ “Lee-lo, the laundry's done.” John rolled his eyes, refraining from stomping his foot in frustration.

“Come on, show me,” he insisted and Alex physically slumped in defeat.

“All right, all right, it's just that you left a red sock in with all your whites, and now, everything's... kinda pink,” he said as he opened the lid and winced.

“Oh, everything's pink,” John said in a dead voice, staring blankly at the pink mass in the washer.

“Yeah, uh, except for the red sock, which is still...y’know, red.” John gave Alex an exasperated look and Alex back pedaled. “I'm sorry, please don't be upset, it could happen to anyone,” he offered, giving John an sympathetic look.

“Except it didn't. It happened to me,” he whined before he was hit with a realization. “Oh, god, I'm gonna look like a big marshmallow peep!” The color isn’t what bothered him. It was that  _ all  _ of his white clothes were now pink. He leaned against the washer, panicking a little. “What am I doing?  _ What am I doing _ ? My father's right, I  _ can't _ live on my own! I can't even do laundry!” He flung his hand to the side at the pink clothes peeking through the washer’s open lid.

The man who had tried to steal his washing machine walks by, and laughs at John’s frustration and lack of laundry skills. Behind his back, John stuck his tongue out.

* * *

 

Laf was cooking lunch when Peggy burst into the apartment. Simply raising an eyebrow, Laf turned their head a little as she headed for the fridge on the far side of the kitchen.

“Everything okay,  _ mon ami _ ?” they asked, turning around to face her. Peggy settled into the chair facing Lafayette before looking up at them.

“I entered a baking contest,” she said. Laf smiled, happy to help Peggy however she needed to to win the contest.

“That’s nice. What do you need to do?”

“Well, it’s a team baking contest… And I kinda signed up all six of us?” Peggy winced at Laf’s high-pitched calling of their name. “I thought it might be fun!” she defended.

“When is the contest?” Laf asked, exasperated. Peggy knew they couldn’t deny entering a contest, let alone a baking contest.

“Tomorrow at 2?” Peggy ducked at the spoon being thrown at her, swiping the food off the spoon once it landed. “Ooh, that’s good.”

“Not for you,” Laf said, jerking the spoon away. “Only my nice friends get to eat my food.” Peggy whined at the unfairness of Laf’s verdict.

“No.” They pointed the spoon at Peggy, who slumped back into the kitchen chair.

“So are we doing the contest or not?” She asked after a few minutes had passed.  
  
“Of course, we’re doing it. Have you met me?” 

* * *

 

“You got the clothes clean. Now that's the important part,” Alex comforted John.

“Oh, I guess. Except everything looks like jammies now.” His tone was sarcastic as he sassily sorted the clothes. The same man who tried to take his washer walked over and took the cart John was going to use to put his clothes in to dry.

“Whoa, I'm sorry. Excuse me. We had this cart,” he said, trying not to be completely rude to this person.

Yeah, well, I had a 34-inch waist. You lose things. Now come on, get outta my way,” he said, going to move around John. He looked to Alex, who motioned him to get the cart back. Taking a deep breath, John looked back at the old man.

“I'm sorry, you know, maybe I wasn't being clear. Uh, this is our cart,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he slammed his hands on the edge of it.

“Hey, hey, hey there aren't any clothes in it, so I’m taking it.” The older man yanked it from John, who refused to let go.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, quit making up rules!” John insisted, jerking the cart towards him again.

“Let go!” They struggled for the cart for a few minutes before John shakily climbed into the cart.

“All right, listen, mister. If you want this cart, you're gonna have to take me with it!” Taken back, the man steps away, staring at John stubbornly staring at him. He gives up and walks away and John turns to Alex, a grin on his face.

“Yes! Did you see that?” he cried, still in the cart.

“You were incredible! Brand new man, ladies and gentlemen,” Alex said, turning around to announce to no one.

“I could not have done this without you,” he said, pulling Alex closer. He stood a little and kissed him gently. When they pulled away, silence filled the gap between them. Alex was the first one to break it.   
  
“Ok, um, uh... More clothes in the dryer?” He turned quickly on his heel, not seeing the dryer door still open behind him. His head hit the door and he stumbled back. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he reassured John.

“Are you sure?” John asked tentatively, standing slightly in the basket..  
  
“No,” Alex said as he collapsed to the floor.


End file.
